


on bended knee

by Acosmiclove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Force Choking (Star Wars), General Debauchery, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acosmiclove/pseuds/Acosmiclove
Summary: Cal and Trilla explore Bogano’s abandoned cliff dwellings on a hot day.They get distracted.——a prequel to ‘tell me what you want’.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	on bended knee

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine’s day, ya filthy animals.

It’s the height of the hot season on Bogano. The air is dry and heat shivers visibly off of every horizon line. Most of the surface dwelling creatures keep to the lower cliffs - hiding in the shade or in their burrows. Even the insects are quiet. 

“At least it’s a little cooler in here.” Cal comments to Trilla as they descend into a circular room carved below one of the plateaus. “Must be the draft from the canyon coming through.”

“Likely a purposeful design by the original inhabitants.” Trilla comments over her bare shoulder, going to stand in the middle of the grotto. They’d stripped to their lightest clothes before venturing out. It was a change from his usual attire. Cal can’t help but feel terribly exposed in just a simple tunic and pants. He is accustomed to being protected by many more layers, but his discomfort is a price he is willingly to pay for a reprieve from the heat. 

His eyes fall on the woman before him. The back of Trilla’s neck is bare, her hair mostly up but for the few curly tendrils sticking to the sweat dampened skin of her nape. He briefly imagines pressing his lips to there. What would she taste like? Cal averts his eyes. This wasn’t the time or the place for such errant thoughts. They had a purpose for being here. 

“Cordova left manuscripts all over.” Cal carefully sifts through a dusty stack of papers and data chips on a nearby table - pulling his fingers away when his psychometry flares even a little. He isn’t in the mood to see or feel anything potentially traumatic - and it was always a toss up it seemed, in abandoned places such as this. With Trilla here, he especially didn’t want to be caught off guard by his psychometry. Not after their last mission together. They were both still not ready to discuss that. “This might take a while.”

Trilla nods and picks her own section of the room to search. They pass some time this way, occasionally setting aside a piece of information that might prove useful in the future, but didn’t match what they were looking for. Cal notes that most of the scrolls and books are in a writing he can’t decipher. “BD-1, do you mind scanning these into your databank?” He places a stack on the desk. The little droid beeps an affirmative and hops up to begin it’s given task. 

“I’m going to check the upper room.” Trilla calls and when he glances to her, she gives him a peculiar look before she easily alights to the landing above and disappears from sight.

Cal stares after her. It slowly dawns on him. 

She wants him to follow her. 

BD-1 is whistling to itself, barely having scraped the surface of the pile it had to scan. Cal figures it will be some time before it is done. He clears his throat and rubs his hands together, “I’m… uh… I’m gonna go see if she needs any help.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder and backs up slowly. 

The little droid snaps it’s ‘head’ towards Cal, “Bwoo-beep-boo boop!”

“What?!” He holds his hands out from him in indignation and denial. “No!”

BD-1 emits a loud noise of disbelief, but turns back to it’s scans. Cal thanks the Force it wasn’t choosing to be as persistent and overly curious as it usually was. 

With the aid of a rope dangling from the elevated ledge that curved around the room, Cal swings up and gracefully lands outside the door leading into the room he’d seen Trilla had wandered into.

He remembers passing through this chamber in his initial exploration of Bogano months ago. It had seemed to be far more recently lived in in contrast to the rest of the hovels scattered around the ancient ruins. He’d suspected then that Eno Cordova had claimed the space for himself. A modest bed remains a notable feature within. Trilla is leaning out over the edge of the open floor on one side of the room, looking up and down the vines that stretch from the ceiling before descending out of sight below her feet. 

“Find anything interesting?” Cal attempts at small talk whilst internally trying to calm himself. He distractedly pokes around the scattered belongings on a nearby work table. Parchment sketches of local fauna and various tools of archaeology lay innocent and nondescript there. 

He hears her approach him from behind and he bites at the inside of his bottom lip. Why was his breathing so loud to his ears? His heart was pumping far too hard for someone just standing still. She has him on edge - anticipating something that neither of them have really even alluded to yet. Had he read her wrong? He feels a hand drag across his shoulders, left to right, before she appears out of his peripheral. She leans backward against the table, folding her toned arms under her breasts. “Indeed.” Her rich timbre lilts almost playfully. “I’ve come across this young Jedi, you see…”

Cal swallows. “Yeah?”

She holds his gaze for a tense beat, before huffing in amusement and shaking her head as she boosts herself up to sit on the tabletop. He snatches his hands off the surface as her backside settles very near to them. One long leg crosses over the other, she observes, “You’re sweating.”

“Well, it  _ is _ hot.” He swipes nervously at his forehead and pushes stray locks of hair back into place. 

“Cal.” She reclines back a fraction, trying to catch his gaze as he looks down and away. “You can’t hide from me.”

“I’m not!” He snaps at her and instantly regrets it. She fixes him with a look of reproach. His voice softens immediately, “I just… I don’t know. I thought that you… that  _ we— _ ”

A hand comes to cradle his cheek. He flinches at the touch despite his want for it. Trilla makes a quiet, nearly disappointed sound under her breath and goes to draw away, but he catches her hand and holds it there. A silent understanding seems to pass between them then. Slowly, her warmth seeps into his skin and he feels himself relax. She guides him over a step to stand between her now open legs. He blinks up at her, lips parted, cheeks flush, hands braced on the table edge on either side of her knees. Her forest eyes search him, “You thought what?”

“It’s nothing...” He doesn’t want to admit he’d imagined her luring him into this room for a particular reason. 

Trilla cocks a single brow and her voice adopts an edge, “You know I don’t suffer liars, Cal Kestis.”

There she is. A faint echo of the person she’d once been. Terrible, vengeful, and merciless. Cal can’t help but feel something dark and baseless in him respond to her. As much as he supports and adores the woman she’d become since Nur, he has to admit, if only to himself, that he doesn’t mind seeing flickers of the Second Sister bleed through. “I thought you wanted me up here.”

Her cold melts away and a knowing smirk curls her carmine lips. “I did.”

“What for?” He dares to ask, albeit in a near whisper. 

A heel hooks at the back of his leg and he is prompted to shuffle forward the final inches to press against the convergence of her thighs. A few moments there and he can feel the heat of her seeping into the front of him. His mind wanders dangerously. She hums, “What do you suppose?”

He blushes deeper. “Trilla…”

She traces a single finger down the front of his chest. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me these past days. You want me.”

Cal inhales shallowly. He hadn’t realized he was being so obvious. “Well—”

“It’s been what? A week since we last got the opportunity?”

“Ten days.” He blurts out, and then averts his eyes, embarrassed by his eager answer. 

“Oh?” Trilla rests an arm over his shoulder, fingers lazily toying with his hair, “Someone has been thinking a lot about this then, hmm?.”

He’d spent years ignoring his urges and wants - all for his carefully constructed composure to crumble the day Trilla walked into his life. Well, perhaps not the  _ exact _ day he’d first laid eyes on her, but certainly before she’d defected from the Empire. He’d begun to feel the stir of desire for her within him even as she’d hunted him - even as she’d raised her blade to his with the intent to kill. 

Or, perhaps in retrospect, with what he knew now, she’d never wanted to take his life at all. 

Cal’s desires were eventually discovered to be reciprocated after the events on Nur, when Trilla had, semi-reluctantly become part of the  _ Mantis _ crew. At first, Cal hadn’t known how to act on the revelation. Even though he wasn’t afraid of her, he still tread carefully around her, as though she trailed broken glass wherever she went. Those first months had been hard. It seemed that each of the  _ Mantis _ crew had healing of their own to do. More than a few fights had manifested. Cere and Trilla were still healing. They probably would be for a long time. Maybe for the rest of their lives. So when Cal had picked up on her mutual affection for him, he’d decided to let her be the one to make the first move. 

It was only after he’d narrowly escaped death on one of their escapades together, that she’d made an advance - citing her desire to have him before his recklessness got him killed. 

It had been surreal, that first intimate encounter. Not nearly how he’d imagined it being - but better than he’d thought. It ended with the two of them intertwined in Cal’s tragically narrow bunk. Merrin seemed the only one wise to their activities the following morning, but she kept her mouth shut, only offering them a small smirk as she gestured to the prominent bite mark on Cal’s neck. He’d kept his collar upturned the rest of the day. 

Since then, they’d stolen a few moments to palm at each other over their clothes and slip in a very awkward and  _ very _ hasty coupling in the fresher while the others were out gathering supplies at a port call, but none of that had quelled the flames of his desire for her. It had only fed them. 

He was eager to be alone with her. Which was quite difficult to make happen since it seemed like everyone was constantly stepping over one another in the  _ Mantis _ , and it wasn’t like they had many excuses for going off together outside the ship these days aside from the occasional reconnaissance missions they undertook. 

This was their perfect chance.

“You’re the one who led me here…” Cal rocks his hips against her. The fingers in his hair pull just enough to elicit pain. He sighs short and frustrated with how they’d dragged this out, “You’ve wanted this too.” 

Taking his face between her hands - she finally kisses him. Cal tips his face up to it eagerly. He opens his mouth to her, recalling how she’d vied for access to it the last time they were close like this. Wet warmth mixes with his own, her tongue dipping in to slide along his only for a moment before drawing back out. She teases like that, deepening the kiss only to ease away into a soft press against the corner of his mouth. She is methodical in her toying - seeming to know just how much to give without actually satisfying him. It’s maddening. 

He bites at her bottom lip in retaliation. 

Trilla’s surprised intake of breath has him buzzing with anticipation of some sort of repercussion. He opens his eyes to see her staring back, pupils dark and expression predatory. 

“I’m sorry—” Cal tries, but she doesn’t seem to want to hear it. She pulls his hair roughly, causing him to crane his head back, exposing his throat to her. 

Her lips are a soft brand against his pulse point, her teeth a sharp pleasure. Cal is taken off guard by the low moan she pulls out of him. He’s never sounded like that to his own ears. His face is heated in embarrassment. She hums approval against his fevered skin. 

He is burning up and they’ve barely begun. He feels electrified by her. The buzz of his psychometry is a constant background threat - causing him to hyper focus even more on every sensation she elicits in an attempt to hold his ability in check. It’s a tortuous internal battle that only heightens the sweetness of her ministrations. 

“You’re going to do exactly as I say.” She murmurs at the shell of his ear. 

His immediate response is to nod his head - even if he has no idea what she is going to ask of him, “Don’t I always?”

“Funny.” She pushes him none too gently and Cal shuffles back to let her slide off the table. Her eyes never leave him as she slowly unzips her boots and drops them to the side. Her thumbs slip into the band of her pants and she peels them down - exposing inch after inch of her elegant light brown skin. As gracefully as possible, she steps out of her pants and chucks them past Cal to land on the bed behind him. 

Force, she’s beautiful.

And strong. It’s evident in the gentle curvature of the toned muscles of her calves and thighs and in her shoulders and arms… Even as she stands before him in just her shirt and undergarments, she exudes indisputable power. He’s seen her this bare a few times before, but not in so much light. A rush of blood is sent low in him. He desperately wants to touch himself, just to readjust the tightness in his pants, but something tells him Trilla would scorn him for it. He clenches his hands into fists and forces himself to breathe. 

“Come here.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

He does. His chin lifts to meet her cunning gaze. The heat of her is easily felt. He itches to touch her. 

If there was one thing he was quickly learning, it was that it was more rewarding to let her dictate the course of these things.

So he keeps his hands to himself. 

“Since we have the time…” Her voice is low and warm - her hand even warmer as she takes one of his and guides it the core of her. His fingers conform to cup her over the soft linen of her underwear. “I’m going to show you how to please me.”

The implication being that he had yet to accomplish that. Cal clenches his jaw. He brazenly drags a digit down the center, watching her inhale sharp at the action. His slow forming smirk gets cut off by an abrupt invisible grip on his neck. Not to choke him, but simply pressing uncomfortably. He feels the dark shift in the Force. She still used this technique without remorse. 

“Did I give you permission to do that?” 

“No, but—” 

“But nothing.” She releases him abruptly. “Now, kneel.”

_ ‘That’s right. On your knees.’ _

The hazy memory of the vision he’d seen in the vault plays across his mind. Back then he’d been disturbed by his other self so willingly falling before her. But now…

His knees meet the stone floor. He can smell the heady scent of her from this vantage point. He looks up, watching her watch him. She gestures at that last barrier between him and her. “Take it off.” 

He automatically reaches out with a hand but she swats it away. Cal snatches it back in surprise, “Hey!”

“Employ a little of that imagination of yours.” 

Cal exhales in annoyance, “What? Do you want me to use my  _ teeth? _ ”

Her silence speaks volumes. 

Eyes wide and cheeks a deeper red than ever before, he promptly leans in to catch the band of her grey patties between his teeth and draws them down just far enough to have them fall around her ankles. His entire body is hot with the subservience of it. It’s harder to meet her eyes now, with her fully exposed. Trilla pets the top of his head in praise, “Very good.” 

He swears he’s not going to last. 

She lifts herself to sit on the table once again and draws him in with a hooked finger. “You’re going to put that impertinent mouth of yours to good use.” Her legs part. Cal swallows reflexively at the sight between them. “Well?” She frowns. 

He sees a flicker of something unlike her pass over her features - something like anxiousness. He can’t imagine why. She held all the cards here, and there was no need to be ashamed. 

He moves forward to rest his hands on her knees. Her skin is burning to the touch. “Where do you want it?” He asks slyly, referring to his ‘impertinent mouth’. 

“Here.” She ignores his cocky tone as she touches herself, her index finger parting her folds invitingly. 

This is entirely new to Cal, but even so, he likes to imagine that one of his finer qualities is a willingness to experience and learn new things. He’d figure this out like anything else. 

And he’d be good at it. 

She’s trying not to move, not to breathe, not to give him any sign that she is affected, but Cal can feel her tightly wound presence through the Force. With him pressed close to her, touching her so intimately, she can’t mask  _ every _ feeling. He places a soft kiss just off center of her. Her thighs tense. He hears her sigh faintly above him. 

When he places his mouth over her directly, wetting his lips with the evidence of her arousal, Trilla reaches down to him, fingers intertwining with his hair once again to give a rough tug. He grunts. 

“Use your tongue.” Her tone is biting, as though it is holding something back. A moan, perhaps? He acquiesces. 

The taste of her is unlike anything he’s encountered. It’s a light flavor on his tongue - wholly indescribable. When he draws away to lick his lips, he detects a salty note - likely from sweat. He isn’t opposed to it. He wants more. 

Cal slides an arm under one of her legs and hooks it over his shoulder. He holds her thigh steady as he uses the new angle to reach deeper. Trilla doesn’t seem to have any objections to this. If anything, his initiative is welcomed. She reclines back farther, her face tipping up to the ceiling. Her shirt has ridden up a fraction, offering Cal a view of her defined stomach. He can see her abdominal muscles tensing with each pleasure he pulls from her. She is obviously doing her most not to give him a reaction - but her efforts only serve to make her look all the more strung out. 

“Now your fingers.” She rakes his hair back to find his gaze, “Inside me.”

His flushed cheek resting against the inside of her sweaty thigh, Cal falters at her demand. It’s strange how, even though his mouth would seem far more intimate - it’s his hands that make him hesitate. Such a sensitive part of himself, meeting such a delicate, sensual zone… Would he inadvertently sense anything from her through his touch? Cal has yet to feel his psychometry slip from his control since their encounters began. Perhaps it wouldn’t trigger at all. He hopes so. 

He slides a single finger past her soaking folds - pressing in slowly, carefully. He can feel her walls clenching around him. His nerves are getting to him. “Is this okay?”

She huffs, “As if you haven’t had your cock in me twice before now.”

He blinks at her crudeness and the sight of his finger buried in her, “Uh—?” 

“Of  _ course _ it’s okay.” She shifts her hips towards him, as though searching for more, “Now add another.”

Cal obeys, his breathing shallow and his eyes falling shut at the feeling of her. So hot. So wet. The pads of his fingers must brush some tantalizing spot within, because Trilla abruptly sucks in sharp. 

“ _ There _ .” She exhales, “Let me show you.” Her fingers search his face blindly until she finds his lips. She pushes between them to hook her fingers within his mouth. Cal reflexively closes over her searching digits, coating them with saliva. Cal’s eyelashes flutter against his freckle dusted cheeks. This touch is foreign. Odd. Though, not unpleasant. Trilla curls her fingers up to brush the roof of his mouth. “Like this…” He mimics her, curling his fingers and slowly pressing up within her. Her response is immediate and gratifying. “More.” Is her slow, shaky exhale. Her fingers leave his mouth with an audible ‘smack’ and her hands search for purchase around her. One hand grasps at the personal computer terminal to her right, while the other accidently swipes a stack of papers to the floor. 

It’s a gentle coaxing, a measured guidance, a sweet building towards completion. Cal is hyper aware of her every reaction, chasing after what clearly brings her the most satisfaction. 

Even though he’s the one on his knees, he sees now that she is the one at his mercy. It’s a daunting thing. The level of trust she has in him is clear in this act. She’s surrendered herself - trusted every ounce of her pleasure to his novice ability. 

Her presence in the Force, usually so even and controlled, has begun to unravel as her back arches off the table. She is covering her mouth with her hand, eyes shut tight, almost as if she is in pain. 

Cal stands, hand still moving rhythmically within her. He pushes the leg not over his shoulder open farther, allowing him the deepest access to his index and middle fingers. Her back arches and he watches her brutalize her bottom lip between her teeth trying to muffle her impending release. “You’re so beautiful, Trilla.” He showers her with whatever comes to mind, “I can feel you, I know you’re close.”

“C-Cal…” His name is barely audible beneath the muzzle her hand makes, but it’s there. It sends a shock of arousal through him. He’s never felt so near to climax without even touching himself. 

“Let go.” He implores, quickening his movements within her, adding a little more force. “I’ve got you...”

A single half sob escapes between her fingers. 

Her body stills for a brief moment, caught up in her peak. Her muscles tense and retract around him. Her heel digs into the back of his shoulder. He tries not to lose his balance as he continues to dip his soaked digits in and out of her - drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can for her. 

“S-Stop.” The flat of her palm pushes at his arm and he pulls away.

A flash of concern cuts through him. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly, furrowing his brow as he wipes his wet fingers against his thigh. 

She sits up with obvious effort. Her hair is flowing askew out of the bun she’d had it in. Brow glistening with sweat, she gives him the smallest of smiles. “More than.”

A flush of pride swells within him. Cal gently guides her leg back off his shoulder, “It was actually really— mh!”

Trilla swallows his words and thoroughly derails any previous train of thought. For a long minute, all Cal knows is the taste of her lips and the heat of her hungry touch every place she can reach. When her wayward fingers find the swell of his want, she breaks the kiss. “You’ve been so very patient. I’m impressed.”

He can only nod dumbly as her fingers make quick work of his belt and opens the front of his pants to free him. Cal groans in relief. “Thank you...” 

His eyes screw shut as he hears her spit into her palm. His knees feel weak and she hasn’t even touched him— “You will watch me.” She cups his cheek, encouraging him to do as she orders. When he is slow to do so, her voice drops warningly, “I will not be laying a single finger on you until you look, Cal.”

“You’re terrible.” He half complains under his breath as he opens his eyes to the sight of her hand closing around his length. “ _ Fuck… _ ” 

A slow, firm pump over him and he’s having to fight to keep his eyes from rolling back. “Do not look away.” She reminds him. 

And so Cal watches as his weeping member is stroked to the edge of bliss. This is far better than anytime he’s ever brought himself to orgasm with own hand. There really was no comparison. Something about being completely out of control makes the burn of his imminent release that much more incinerating. She quickly identifies that particular spot that leaves him panting with each pass of her hand and now she won’t let up. Cal chokes back a moan when she breaks the cadence with a swipe of her thumb over the tip of him. 

“Are you close,  _ padawan? _ ” 

The former title rolls of her tongue like Corellian syrup and he groans a rapturous affirmative in response. 

“You may look at me when you speak.” Her free hand curves loosely around the column of his neck, “I require a clear answer from you.”

Cal feels as though he might melt away under her gaze. His words are needy and begging. “Y-Yes…  _ Please _ , Trilla...” 

She murmurs thickly, fingers resuming their slow drag along his feverish flesh, “I want to see your pretty eyes when you to cum for me.”

There’s that telltale tightening within him and Cal manages, with great effort, to maintain eye contact with her as he spills himself into her hand. His mouth parts in a quiet moan and the hand on his throat tightens as she simultaneously strokes him through the last waves of his orgasm. 

It’s too much. It really is. Cal crumples into her chest and breathes hard through the aftershocks of the stimulus. Trilla curls her limbs around him - cradling him close. He feels her attempt to clean her slicked hand against his already soiled pants. Distantly he hopes no one asks questions about that later…

His fingers catch the top edge of the scar on her back, just peeking out from beneath her sleeveless top. He traces the length of it, left shoulder to right hip. She shudders in his arms. They don’t speak of it much anymore. Trilla likes it that way, but it’s a touchstone of the journey they’d taken together. A reminder of what they’d endured to reach this point. 

“Are you satisfied?” She runs fingers through his sweat damp hair. He nuzzles closer into her shoulder. “Cal?”

“I don’t think I ever will be.” He kisses lazily at her throat, tasting salt. “I think I could get addicted to you.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

They take their time putting themselves back together. Cal makes a smart comment about using the bed next time and Trilla informs him she will not be fornicating where her master’s master once slept. 

“But you’ll climax all over his drawings of boglings?” Cal quips as they exit the room. 

“Is that what they were? They weren’t that impressive anyway.” Trilla sniffs imperiously as she sweeps her hair back into a tight bun once more. 

Cal chuckles and reaches out to smooth an errant strand over her ear for her. She blinks at him in surprise, almost appearing shy, even with their lecherous activities still fresh in both their minds. He’s compelled to speak, to say something declarative and vulnerable, but whatever he might have said is interrupted by an irritated beeping. 

BD-1 scampers towards them from below, looking up and scolding them. 

“We didn’t abandon you!” Cal tries to calm it down, “We were just making sure nothing got missed up here—”

“Bee-do-beep!”

He blushes at the crude observation it makes. “Ok… ok fine, yeah. Sorry, BD…”

The droid appears to be placated with the apology and quickly switches moods. “Boop-bee-bee-dwoo!” 

“Wait? You found the manuscript while we were gone?”

Trilla laughs, actually laughs, rich and sweet. Cal looks at her - surprised by the pure emotion he hasn’t heard from her before. Her eyes are closed, mouth parted as her shoulders rise and fall with her laughter. “Outstanding work, BD-1.” 

He hadn’t considered it possible to love her more.

But if the bright warmth he feels hearing her laugh is any indication, then perhaps he will be finding more ways to fall for her all the time. 

**Author's Note:**

> i’m on twitter: @acosmiclove
> 
> feel free to yell at me about caltrilla there


End file.
